


it's not even a question

by fatal_drum



Series: Charity Ficlets 2020 [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Barebacking, Daddy Kink, Lingerie, M/M, Praise Kink, Spanking, Trans Martin Blackwood, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, bratty sub Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24929746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatal_drum/pseuds/fatal_drum
Summary: Martin’s not the kind of person who would normally have an...arrangement like this. If anyone had told him a few years ago that he’d be a rich businessman’s overpaid plaything, he would have laughed in their face. But Simon pays for his flat, and his clothes, and his mum’s care, and even got him his job with the publishing firm. All he asks for in return is Martin’s company.The rest, Martin does for free.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Simon Fairchild
Series: Charity Ficlets 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804192
Comments: 21
Kudos: 125





	it's not even a question

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EnzymaticWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnzymaticWitch/gifts).



> This fic was written for the delightful Enzy! Enzy was kind enough to suppprt the TakeAction Minnesota Education Fund. Requests are currently still open to interested parties, contact me on Twitter, Tumblr, or Discord for details. <3 
> 
> Betaed by the ever-wonderful Cuttooth! <3 
> 
> Title borrowed from Aerosmith's Pink, because I'm old.
> 
> The following terms are used to describe Martin's anatomy: cock, cunt, and folds.

Martin finds the package on his doorstep when he gets home from work: an elegantly wrapped box with a pink silk bow. There’s no return address, but he knows exactly who it’s from. The thought that makes him smile as he takes it inside and sets it on the mahogany coffee table in his sitting room. 

He takes his time settling in before opening it, savoring the mystery. His cat, a tortoiseshell named Miss Sprinkles, won’t let him do anything else before he dispenses the appropriate number of scritches, and feeds her a fresh can of food. She butts her head against his shins gratefully before attacking the bowl like a starving creature. He waters his plants, sorts through the day’s mail, and takes time to brew a cup of tea before finally sitting on the settee and unfurling the silk ribbon. 

The first thing he sees is a note from Simon; he’d know that old-fashioned penmanship anywhere. _Be ready at 8. ;) xoxoxo_ Somehow Simon never got past writing like a sixth form girl, but it’s charming, in his own way. Martin sets the note aside before peeling back a layer of gold tissue paper, and gasps. 

He’s looking at a rose pink silk corset. He strokes the fabric, finding it cool and soft under his fingers. It’s made to be touched. He pictures Simon’s hands rubbing him through the fabric and flushes deeply, imagining how the smooth fabric will feel against his skin. There’s also a pair of lace panties in the same color, with a garter belt and white silk stockings. To complete the ensemble is a collar made of dusky pink velvet. Everything about the outfit radiates sweetness and purity waiting to be despoiled. Martin swallows, his heart racing. 

He has just enough time to get ready, and he intends to look his best.

* * *

As usual, Simon’s driver is waiting for him at eight o’clock sharp. He gives Martin a courteous nod before opening the door for him, and Martin climbs in, relaxing against the polished leather seat.

He’d chosen a tailored shirt in the same pink as the lingerie, paired with a burgundy bowtie and designer jeans that hug the curve of his arse. Before he met Simon, he would never have worn anything so flashy, or so tight, but Simon loves the way he looks in these jeans, and Martin loves pleasing Simon. 

Martin’s not the kind of person who would normally have an...arrangement like this, either. If anyone had told him a few years ago that he’d be a rich businessman’s overpaid plaything, he would have laughed in their face. But Simon pays for his flat, and his clothes, and his mum’s care, and even got him his job with the publishing firm. All he asks for in return is Martin’s company. 

The rest, Martin does for free. 

It doesn’t take long to get to Simon’s flat. Simon has the penthouse, of course, a dizzying ride in a glass-walled lift that lets him see the city around him. At first Martin had found the view nerve-wracking. Now it’s as familiar and comfortable as Simon himself. 

Simon is setting the table when he arrives. He grins as his eyes take in Martin’s form, roving shamelessly up and down his body. 

“My dear,” he says, “you look good enough to eat.”

Martin flushes; he can never entirely get used to Simon’s easy praise. Simon draws him in for a quick kiss before ushering him onto the sofa. 

“Wine?” 

“Do you have any more of that cabernet from last time?” Martin asks shyly. 

“For you? Always.”

Simon ducks into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of the wine they’d shared last week, a rich, velvety red they’d drunk straight from the bottle, curled together in bed. Martin will remember that night fondly for quite some time. 

“How are you, my dove?” Simon asks, gesturing for him to sit. “Still enjoying the apartment?”

Martin takes a sip of the wine. It’s as good as he remembered. “Yes, thank you. You should come over next time, let me cook for you.”

Simon grins. “I would love that. You’ll have to make that aubergine dish you made last time, it was divine.”

“It gets lonely without you,” Martin says shyly, because that’s what Simon likes to hear, and because it’s true.  
  
Simon places his hand on Martin’s knee, squeezing gently. “Have I been neglecting you, my dear?”

“Maybe a bit,” Martin admits. “You work so much.”

Simon’s hand slides up his thigh just slightly. “How can I make it up to you?”

Martin looks up at Simon. “You could start by kissing me.”

Simon smiles and cups his chin, leaning in for a soft kiss that quickly grows deeper. His hand moves up Martin’s thigh, prompting Martin to open his legs slightly. 

“Is that it, pet?”

“You know it isn’t,” Martin says, pushing Simon’s hand higher. 

Simon chuckles. “Did you bring my gift?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” 

“My pleasure.”

Simon runs both hands up Martin’s thighs, skimming his belly and chest before he unbuttons his shirt. The pink satin of the corset shines through the parted fabric. Simon lets out an appreciative sigh. 

“That _does_ look good on you,” he praises, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “Stand up for me?”

Martin stands, and Simon pulls the shirt off his shoulders, leaving him in his jeans and the corset. 

“Do you like dressing up for me, sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” Martin murmurs. 

“Yes…?” Simon prompts.

“Yes...daddy,” Martin says, biting his lip at the little thrill that always goes through him. Calling Simon daddy feels dirty and wrong, and it gets him wetter than anything. “Do you...want to see the rest?”

“I’ve _love_ to.” 

Martin thumbs open his jeans, pushing them slowly down his hips and thighs to reveal the pink lace panties and garter belt. Simon whistles appreciatively, running his hands over Martin’s arse. 

“That’s my boy,” he praises. “So gorgeous for daddy. Why don’t you sit in my lap?”

Martin kicks off his shoes and shimmies out of his jeans so he can perch in Simon’s lap. Simon runs his hands over Martin’s thighs, making him moan as the silk rubs against his skin.

“Does it feel good, pet?”

“Yes, daddy,” Martin says honestly. 

Simon rewards him with a kiss. “I want you to feel good. You deserve it.” 

Simon’s hand drifts upward until he finally, _finally_ brushes Martin’s cock. Martin lets out a choked sound, thighs clenching around Simon’s hand as he rubs him through the smooth fabric. He can feel the silk clinging to his folds as he grows wetter. Simon’s finger teases his hole through the thin fabric, and he lets out a low whine. 

“Is there something else you want?” Simon asks, leaning down to kiss the side of Martin’s neck. Martin shivers. 

“I—I want you inside me,” he says, pressing against the hand on his cunt. “Please, daddy.”

“How could I resist when you ask so sweetly?” Simon asks, kissing him gently. 

Simon pushes Martin’s panties to the side so he can slide two fingers inside him. Martin gasps, thighs clamping on Simon’s wrist. Simon chuckles. 

“I can’t fuck you properly if you won’t let me move,” Simon chides. Slowly, grudgingly, Martin parts his thighs again. “Good boy.”

Martin bites his lip as Simon’s fingers move inside him, rubbing his front wall slowly and firmly, while his thumb strokes Martin’s cock. He’s so wet that Simon’s fingers slide easily, drawing a moan from his throat. 

“What a lovely cunt you have,” Simon praises. “So wet and eager for me. And a beautiful cock.” He presses harder with his thumb for emphasis, making him keen. 

Martin can feel Simon hardening under him, and he grinds his arse against him just to make him swear and clutch Martin’s hip with his free hand. 

“Naughty thing,” Simon chides. “Do I need to spank you?”

Martin tightens around Simon’s fingers, and that’s all the encouragement Simon needs to tip him over, spreading him across his lap. Martin whines at the loss of Simon’s fingers. Simon’s hands squeeze his arse cheeks firmly. 

“I think ten ought to make you behave,” Simon muses, pinching Martin’s thigh to make him squirm. “What do you think?”

“I can take ten, daddy,” Martin promises. 

“But will you behave?” Simon asks. 

“I might need more,” Martin admits. 

Simon chuckles, then raises his hand for a hard slap that makes Martin cry out. 

“What do we say, dear?”

“O-one,” Martin pants. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Good boy,” Simon praises, rubbing the spot he just slapped. Martin can already feel the skin growing hot. “Now, again.” 

Simon’s hand rises to slap the other cheek, and Martin wriggles in his lap, crying, “Two! Thank you, daddy!” The next three slaps come in quick succession, until Martin’s panties are sopping, and he can’t resist grinding against Simon’s thigh. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were enjoying this, pet,” Simon says wryly. 

Martin laughs, and Simon rains down several more blows. He catches Martin off guard when he slips his fingers back into Martin’s cunt, and he forgets to count. 

“How many was that, sweetheart?”

Martin pants, rocking his hips against Simon’s hand. “Uh...nine?”

Simon slaps the inside of Martin’s thigh, making him gasp. “Wrong. Eight. _That_ was nine. Now what do we say?”

“Thank you, daddy!” Martin cries as Simon dispenses the final blow.

Simon’s fingers slide deeper, soon joined by a third. Martin’s spine arches as he grinds against Simon’s lap. 

“Do you want to come like this?” Simon asks, rubbing his cock with his thumb. 

“N-no, daddy,” Martin manages, though he can’t resist rocking his hips against Simon’s hand. 

“How do you want to come, sweetheart?”

“I—I want you to fuck me,” Martin pants. “Please, daddy.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Simon says. “It would be my pleasure.” 

Simon rolls him off his lap and onto the couch, kneeling between his thighs. Martin reaches up, eager to get at Simon’s cock, to have it hot and hard and ready in his hand. Slowly, Simon eases Martin’s panties down his thighs, pushing them down to his ankles. The crotch is completely soaked through. Martin flushes with embarrassment, but Simon flashes him a pleased grin. 

“I’m flattered, my sweet,” Simon says, teasing the head of his cock against Martin’s slit. Martin tips his hips up eagerly. “Are you ready?”

“What do you think?” Martin huffs. 

Then Simon pushes into him, slowly working him open, and Martin loses all his sass at once, reduced to gasping and wrapping his thighs around Simon’s waist. He always forgets how huge Simon is until he’s inside him, stretching him open so wide. Finally, _finally_ Simon sinks in to the hilt, and Martin is left trembling. 

“How’s that, sweetheart?” 

“It-it’s good, daddy!” Martin manages. 

Simon chuckles, drawing back for another thrust that makes Martin swear and clutch at the sofa, then another. 

“You’re so good for daddy, dressing up so pretty and taking my cock,” Simon croons. “Do you like it when daddy fucks you?”

“Yes!” Martin cries, lifting his hips to meet Simon’s thrusts. Their bodies come together with filthy, wet slaps that make Martin blush and squirm. “Please, daddy!”

Simon growls low in his throat, gripping Martin’s hips as he thrusts even harder. Each thrust makes Martin cry out, unable to contain his moans. Simon’s hand reaches between them, rubbing Martin’s cock harshly. 

“Are you going to come for daddy? Are you going to squirt all over me like a good boy?” 

Simon couples his words with a hard thrust, and Martin comes with a high wail, gushing all over Simon’s hand and their thighs. Simon doesn’t even slow down, just keeps hammering him into the couch until he stiffens and swears, filling him with come. 

“Good boy,” Simon praises, kissing Martin’s neck. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Martin pants for a moment, catching his breath. “I might have.”

Simon chuckles. “Such a cruel boy. Are you going to make me do it all over again?”

Martin smirks. “If you’re offering.”

Simon laughs and kisses him fondly. 

“Well, then. I suppose I should get started.”

Martin moans as Simon kisses a trail down his neck, tugging at the lacings to his corset. 


End file.
